"Reall- Ah... Certainly. Ju- Just a moment now..." Alexi struggled to keep himself composed, relief flooding in to mingle with terror in the oddest sensation he had ever experienced. It wasn't often he had to try and talk himself out of a situation where he was likely to be killed... or... at all, really. This had been the first time, hadn't it?

Something almost like a chuckle tried to escape his lips, the Scribe choking it down at the last moment. No, no, he needed to focus. Trembling hands reached back into the packs he carried, rummaging by memory to track down the tools he needed. Parchment, quill, ink, his tablet would work as a table for this. One by one he drew them out, keeping his eyes on his work, finding himself calm somewhat at the thought of writing. So long as he didn't dwell on those around, on what might happen... As long as he didn't, it should be fine.

[i]To the esteemed Lord Stanhope...[/i]

The first line came so easily, so naturally. The proper terms, how to phrase, the quiet ways to flatter, he knew clearly what he had to write. It was a letter he had written many a time for others, had once imagined receiving many himself. This, this was easy, this was something he could do.

[i]To the esteemed Lord Stanhope,

I write this to you in the hopes it might put some of your recent troubles to rest, as your family has done for many of mine over these years. 

While your troubles in finding a troupe of entertainers remains a closely guarded secret, the upcoming festivities must only be making it harder to conceal. Good musicians are hard to come by, and harder still to keep in one's service, but I do believe I have found you a solution.

The gentleman in possession of this letter leads a troupe of actors, musicians and entertainers whose skills far outstrip their modest reputation. I myself have personally witnessed their skill in music and performance, and must admit to being impressed by the quality they deliver. Though not bearing the well-known names your celebrations deserve, their skills are sure to impress both your own refined tastes, and that of your guests.

The Stanhope name has done much for me over the years, and it is in return for that great fortune that I recommend this man and his troupe to you. Granting these entertainers the chance to liven up your upcoming celebrations would be the greatest of favors, which I will most certainly return. I assure you, my good Lord Stanhope, this man and his own will do everything but disappoint.

Regards, 	
	Alexander Louis Dumont ex-Einfeld[/i]

Alexi completed the letter with a flourish and sigh, eyes closing as he considered what he was doing. Stanhope would certainly give Martin and his troupe the opportunity to prove themselves... and be eagerly awaiting Alexi's return to the city. He probably wouldn't be allowed to stay at the church, now that he had all-but thrown himself into the rising noble's grasp. But that was what happened when you re-entered politics, he would have to accept the turn his life would take... and Stanhope would have to accept that he would be travelling for quite some time, yet.

Inexperienced as he was, Alexi would not let even the Stanhope family walk over him without a struggle. Perhaps that was his family blood getting the better of him at last.

"The letter is done..." Carefully turning the parchment over, Alexi drew a small, hardwood stamp from his packs. It bore a carved, ivory cap that he carefully dipped in ink, letting the excess drip back into the well for a moment before pressing it firmly on the back of the letter. The scribe held it for a moment more, then replaced the stamp in his backs, retrieving his quill to sign his name once more, beneath the crest still glistening with drying ink. "...And that will let the Lord's men know it's genuine."

Another sigh, and he held out the letter for Martin to take, finally lifting his gaze to meet the man's own.

"It will need another few minutes to dry completely, don't fold it before then." Just like business, he found himself able to speak calmly. The world around seemed to blur out, only the two of them left. Scribe and patron... it only needed a table and walls to be another normal scene from his work. 

"Feel free to read it over. If it is acceptable, we can then continue on?" If only there weren't armed men surrounding him and Katherine, out in the forest, he might have been able to smile.